


Beyond the Ice

by MarcarellaPizza



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Is this crack?, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Yuuri literally steals viktor from the world, accidental kidnap, uh i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcarellaPizza/pseuds/MarcarellaPizza
Summary: It had always a joke between him and his friends, “Steal Viktor from the world Yuuri, you’re skating is just that captivating!” they’d said.  And now Yuuri doesn’t know what to do; because he’s quite literally just done that.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Beyond the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> This was an old story sitting in my drafts so I devided to edit it as best I could without putting too much effort in... so yay!

“Mari, I’m sure this is cheating.” Yuuri bites at his bottom lip. The skin that has been chewed on out of anxious habit tears, letting little beads of blood ooze from the freshly opened wound. Yuuri does nothing but lick them away, the tang of copper hitting his tongue as he sighs.

As usual, Mari doesn’t respond to him.

“Mari.” He tries again, but his body is rigid and stiff. No one notices the slight quirk of his lips as he speaks, almost hiding that fact that he’s talking at all, as he stares intently at the ice before him. “ _ Mari _ .”

He feels the lanyard around his neck jump, minutely plucked from the nape of his neck as if another had tugged on its strings. Yuuri grits his teeth as he frustratedly pushes away from the rink wall, turning his back to the next skater. 

“And here we have Russia’s skating legend; Viktor Nikiforov!”

The lanyard swiftly hits his hand, in a way that’s seen as almost accidental, but Yuuri huffs out a puff of air as he swats at the plastic card. “Mari I’m serious,  _ quit it _ .”

In only three minutes, Yuuri knows he’s going to have to take to the ice, sharing the rink with one of the greatest skaters and his long time idol. This is his first year in the Senior Circuit and his life’s work has all been leading up to this moment. And today he’s going to betray them all.

“Mari I won’t allow it.” His voice mumbles discreetly. There aren’t many secluded areas he can continue his conversation in private, so he hopes that the racing of his heart and the strange tingling in his limbs isn’t all for naught. “ _ MARI! _ ”

The exclamation is overridden by the loud gasps of the audience as the legendary skater on the ice before him completes his jump, flubbing and underrotating his axel. The thud that greets the ice is awful, a sympathy bruise aching at Yuuri’s side as he turns to watch in minute horror.

_ Viktor Nikiforov doesn’t flub his jumps like that. _

“Mari.” Yuuri’s eyes widen in realisation, head spinning on his neck as he tries to gain a sense for the troubled other. He tugs at his lanyard hurriedly, as if waiting for a response, but can only watch as Viktor continues to fall and underperform. “Mari stop it! STOP IT!” 

No one can hear him beyond the defeating gasps and shouting of the commentator, all the while the five times consecutive gold medalist fails his own short program. It’s painful, and he doesn’t even appear phased, while the Russian’s coach can only stare in disbelief.

“And he failed the triple salchow!” Yuuri deftly hears, before his mind clouds with the sound of shrill static ringing in his ears. He gasps, watching Viktor jolt in an odd way, falling out of his step sequence and landing into his final pose haphazardly.

The audience’s uproar is incredible. Incredibly confused and outraged. How had their hero failed so miserably, and how was he supposed to save his score now?

All at once like a gust of wind, Yuuri feels his body seize and overwhelm him with a foreign pride. “Mari…” he whispers in horror, “ _ Why did you do that _ ?”

Of course he doesn’t get a response, and again, that’s exactly what you’d expect from Mari. Despite the odd satisfaction that Yuuri is forced to endure, the confusion and disbelief that is displayed across Viktor’s face haunts him in an unimaginable way.

“That was quite unexpected.” He hears distantly, his own coach coming up from behind him. “I’ve never seen Nikiforov perform so... terribly… however this  _ is _ a good thing; a chance for you to prove your worth in your senior debut. So go out there and show them what you can do.”

Yuuri monotonously nods, handing over his jacket and lanyard as his coach claps him on the back. What’s supposed to be a comforting gesture only fills him with dread as he feels his skates tighten around his feet. “Next we have an up and coming skater from Japan,” Calls the commentators, right on time as a small cheering gathers from the crowd. Yuuri shudders as he reaches the rink wall, taking one last look at the Russian skater.

In the distant corner of his eye he sees a reporter asking Viktor some questions, but he already knows that Viktor would have no recollection of the program for answers.

_ I’m so sorry.  _ He tries to say but it’s hard to do without any words, so he skates, on the same ice as the legend, and moves his arms into his opening position.

“ _ Please Mari.” _ Yuuri whispers, a final plea above all else. To anyone watching it merely looks like he’s praying for good luck. “ _ Don’t do anything, I’ll do it myself.” _ But it’s no surprise when he feels his skates tug him in the direction otherwise desired, and so he sighs as he falls through with what he’s made to do.

“Astounding!” He hears echoing, and the crowd gasping in awe, “That was a perfect quad loop, triple toe loop combo! The entry, the jump and landing, all precise!” 

But of course it was perfect, Yuuri was a  _ disgrace _ . And Mari continued on, to push his feet into a dance of twizzles and spins, showing off just what a puppet could do. Half way through the program Yuuri is sure he’ll pass out. The odd sensation of spinning and moving without really controlling has him sick in his stomach and lost. The world moves in a flurry of colours before he feels himself kick off the ground, and then he’s spinning, spinning, spinning like he’s moved by another.

“ _ A quintuple axel!” _ He hears, landing with such force he’s sure he’s broken the ice, “ _ Five and a half rotations! Ladies and gentlemen Katsuki Yuuri has made history!” _

No he hasn’t.

He knows he hasn’t.

Despite knowing he’ll be credited, this quintuple, five rotations, of an axel is no less valid than a doping scandal.

As the foreign pressure is released from Yuuri’s feet, he wheezes for air as he forces himself into the final position. A hand stretched out, and his head turned away, he meets gaze with two violently blue eyes on the other side.

“ _ Mari… _ ” he mumbles, tears springing in his own, “ _ Why did you do that Mari?” _

But the only response that he gets is the pounding of his own heart, and Yuuri submits to his defeat. 

* * *

  
  


“Stupid boy.” Yakov grumbles, shaking his head. “He’ll be caught out at the drug test.” And Viktor had thought that too, had believed every word that his coach had said in disgust at the Japanese skater.

How could someone have done something like that? Especially in a sport that they’re all so passionate about? The name “Katsuki Yuuri” was still a new one, a late bloomer to the senior division, but not unheard. Viktor had to only look at him once to know for certain that he’d have been trouble for them all.

“After this we‘ll get you tested too and find out who spiked you.” He hears his coach grunt, turning to another of his skaters.

Viktor shudders at the thought.

It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, not only was he certain that he’d been completely clean, but the sensations that he’d felt on the ice were almost supernatural.

He wonders briefly if Katsuki too had experienced such a strange phenomenon of missing memory when the music began, but a curious glance to the rather timid man gave him no more answers than he’d hoped.

“How did you do that.” Viktor mutters, staring at the rink. He doesn’t see a doping scandal in the sad Japanese skater, but the burden of a secret. And when Yuuri’s results come back clear, Viktor’s probably the only one that is not surprised at all.

* * *

  
  


“Viktor, how do you feel about Yuuri Katsuki’s quintuple axel, especially after he was tested negative to drugs?” A microphone is shoved in his face, no less graceful than his own program mere hours ago. Viktor huffs inwardly, a finger tapping against his lip, before flicking hair out of his eyes and wrapping his lips into a smile.

“I hope to learn something from Katsuki.” He decides to say, eyes squinting into a painful smile, “I didn’t for a second doubt he was clean. Today marks a great moment in history for figure skating and I for one look forward to whatever he may bring to the competition next.”

There’s a flurry of reporters who leap forward at the chance to ask the next question but Viktor is trained in public gatherings and knows when to quit. With a dazzling smile he stands, excusing himself politely, and like that he leaves the world wondering what’d happened.

As they exit Viktor pauses, only taking a few seconds or so to lean ov.er the doorway and divert from the designated path. “I’ll be a second Yakov.” He calls out, to which the old coach merely groans.

* * *

  
  


The gym bag flutters open and out spills his spare skate guards, rattling across the floor loudly as they fall. “I  _ can’t _ believe you.” Yuuri grunts, bending to retrieve said items, “I can’t believe you’d  _ do  _ that.”

The jacket around his waist tightens in compensation, sleeves squeezing into his body firmly. “Oh  _ you  _ think I’m dumb? Mari, what you did was worse! You sabotaged—“

The gym bag on his shoulder is torn free, flung into the empty conference room at his side. Yuuri pauses, taking a deep breath, before reaching out to balance himself against the wall. His bag remains unmoving on the ground, as if waiting for him to go fetch like a puppy. “I don’t hate you… I’m upset.” He clarifies in defeat, waiting, staring at his bag.

The handles flutter, as if to communicate something, to which Yuuri seems to translate easily. “No. I know you were only trying to help me… but I can do things myself, okay?” Another flutter.

“Are we all good now?” Yuuri asks meekly, shifting his weight to his left leg against the wall. The bag slowly scuffed across the hardwood, like someone kicking it into momentum, and Yuuri smiles softly at the significance of what it all means. “Thank you Mari, now let’s go and—“

“Katsuki Yuuri.” Someone calls out, and he freezes as footsteps grow heavier, “If you could come this way, Mr Nikiforov claimed you had something of his and requests to see you.”

He feels his skater bag shift on his shoulder. “Viktor?” He asks, turning to face the stranger. He recognises him as one of the rink security personnel wandering around the vicinity from earlier that day. “Um, I think there’s been a mistake.”

“I don’t know man.” The guy shrugs, arms folded as he sighs, “The dude’s outside the changing rooms so… go sort your tiff over there.” With that the man leaves as Yuuri watches him, standing and unmoving as he goes.

“Reckon he’s telling the truth?” Yuuri mumbles, a hand gripping the shoulder strap. “Why would  _ the _ Viktor Nikiforov want to see  _ me _ ?”

Mari doesn’t create a response, instead the familiar squeeze of his shoes warns him mere seconds before it happens, and then Yuuri finds himself being walked towards the changing rooms quickly. “Woah, wait… wait a second wait.” He tries, a hand reaching out to grasp at a railing, only to find his fingers uncurling by an unseen force. “Mari wait, if this is legit I don’t want too—“

His body stumbles drunkenly down the corridor, entering the now empty and barren rink as he’s scooted toward the lockers. Yuuri can only watch in horror as all his feeble attempts are thwarted and he inches closer towards his doom. “Mari this isn’t funny.” His voice squeaks, but is promptly ignored.

Of course, because Mari never listens.

It’s only once he’s been flung into the changing rooms like a limp rag doll, does he feel the pressure release from his feet. But by then he’s already toppled over something, and he’s made such a ruckus that Viktor would have heard him across Russia.

“Well hello.” He hears, and suddenly that something becomes someone, and that someone transforms into  _ Viktor Nikiforov. “ _ Glad to see you’re here Mr Quintuple Axel!”

Yuuri scrambles backwards, slipping as he regains his balance. His eyes are blown wide in disbelief and somewhere he feels the odd sensation of humiliation. “Viktor Nikiforov.” Yuuri gaps, “Uh, um… I don’t have anything… why did you… why…. I’m…”

But the Russian merely laughs, waving a hand like he’d been told a bad joke, and Yuuri is left to feel confused and unsure. Was this a set up? Surely such a legendary skater would be furious to find his record stolen.  _ Oh god, Viktor was going to beat him up—  _ “Oh no, you don’t have anything from me.” The accented voice cuts through, “I wanted to talk with you!”

“T-talk?” Yuuri echoes, tone raising a pitch higher. His jacket gives a wary squeeze around his waist again. Any tighter and he fears he may throw up.

“Hmmm, Yup! I want to know how you did it!” Comes the reply.

“Did… it?” Yuuri asks uncertainly, “The… the-the axel?”

“Yup!”

Yuuri cringes internally at the dilemma he’s in as he watches Viktor take purposeful strides towards him. With dawning realisation, there’s a squabble as he hastily backs out of the room, tripping over thin air as the platinum blond gives him a curious look. Viktor halts his movements to frown. “Are… you okay?”

“Just  _ peachy  _ thanks! How about you?” Yuuri wheezes, fumbling to his legs. They feel like jelly, surmounting into all the sudden anxiety he now feels. In this state of mind, he can loosely feel Mari’s presence, shakey and uncontrolled as she tries so desperately to regain a bearing. 

“Wait, sit down and breathe. You look like you’re—”

“I’m FINE~!” Comes the insistence, hands held up insistently. “I just… you… I’m a huge fan, okay? And… you even knowing my name is incredible so… um… excuse us— me?” There’s not a second’s hesitation as Yuuri pushes past the skater, feeling the dull throb of the squeeze in his shoes. He doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly so anxious, but the feeling of tightness can sort of clue him in as to what’s going on.

_ Get away, get away fast. _

He doesn’t see the shutters and heavy murmurs until he’s crashed into the crowd of reporters looming in the media lounge. “Katsuki Yuuri!” One of them cheers happily, and soon flashes of bright lights and microphones are thrown into his face, dazzling him silly.

“N-no comment?” He breathes, arms extended outwards as he tries to push past, but the crowd doesn’t disperse and his coach is nowhere to be seen. Yuuri swallows a gulp of air as he tries again. “Please, excuse me, no comment.”

“We’d like a segment on your quintuple axel!” A woman shouts, triggering the swarm of responses from the crews. There are phones, cameras and people growing closer and closer and the squeeze in his chest all but consumes him.

And then he hears— “Yuuri!” like a god, Viktor strolls into the room casually, ignoring the paparazzi as if they weren’t there. He easily wedges himself into the circle of attention and  _ who would want to willingly do that? _ But before Yuuri can even begin to process such a thought, he’s frozen stiff, breath quickening as he realises his  _ idol and the entire world are about to witness a panic attack. _

“P-please.” He begs silently, but his voice goes unheard, “Space, please!”

“Yuuri and I were having a conversation.” Viktor pouts to the media, like he’s hoping they’ll get the hint. Spoiler alert: they don’t, and instead it only seems to rile them up more.

“Are you two both friends?”

“How long have you known each other for?”

“What’s your relationship with each other?!”

Viktor smiles that charming heart-shaped smile, and Yuuri shudders as he feels his idol’s arm wrap around his shoulders into a side hug. “Want to answer a few questions with me,  _ Yuuri _ ?” His name rolls off the tongue like a song, befuddling Yuuri into silence. “We can take it in turns like a panel!”

“Uhm… no, n-no.. No no no.” Yuuri shakes his head furiously, hoping he could wiggle away. If Viktor seemed to realise anything was wrong however, he said nothing and continued to tease.

“Aw, come on  _ Yuuri _ ! It’ll be fun! The top two skaters in history _ —.” _

“I said NO!”

The halls shouldn’t be silent when a crowd of 50 people are gathered. It just shouldn’t. But it was and Yuuri  _ feels _ the many eyes staring into his soul.  _ His soul _ . Why do they have to take privy to  _ him? _

“Oh, ah, I think we’ll have to cut this one short.” Viktor grumbles softly with a mix of a nervous laugh, hand squeezing Yuuri in what he assumed was to be comfort. “I think he’s overwhelmed so we’ll be going now to—”

“LET ME GO!” He twists his body, shoving anything and everything away from him until there’s a 5 meter parameter between him and anything else. He swallows, heart racing and vision blurring. He wants to  _ go,  _ he wants to  _ leave. _

“Mr Katsuki—”

“SHUT UP!” His breathing grows ragged, to the point where he isn’t sure how fast he’s inhaling or exhaling. His head spins and swirls as he clutches at his hair, gritting his teeth harshly in an attempt to make it all stop. “I need space. Leave me alone! All of you!  _ Including you!”  _ He tries to glare at Viktor, although he isn’t entirely sure that it’s him with all the buzzing that he feels in his fingertips.

“Okay, let’s just… breathe and—” Whoever’s voice it was speaking, trying and failing to soothe the freaked skater, gets cut off by a pop and fizzle of several cameras in the room, followed by shrill gasps as tripods and microphones are thrown out of tight grasps and onto the floor.

Yuuri all but halts his panic, heart racing a mile a minute as he feels his brain pulse in agony. “Mari… please… no wait—” And the lights burn out, flickering before exploding into a series of sparks, the lounge room’s doors slamming and decorative pieces shattering to the ground all around them.

“We’re going to die!” Someone screams, a ceiling panel collapsing as people scatter, leaving Yuuri to stand alone amidst the chaos of breakages. A camera is quickly thrown across the room, and more people scream as another ceiling panel falls, Yuuri turns his head in a flurry of confusion and panic as he observes the mess made.

“No wait…” Yuuri whispers in horror, watching as a woman is abruptly thrown to the side of the room. “Mari! Stop! Wait no!” The sensation of his legs are numbly returned, and the adrenaline coursing through him pumps his legs forward. 

Amidst the mess Viktor had collapsed, or perhaps been hit in the head, Yuuri couldn’t tell, but he stared, blank and unfeeling towards the Russian unconscious. It’s not long before he tries to register what exactly had happened. “Oh my god… no wait, Ma-Mari please stop… stop this, right now! Mari! MARI!” Yuuri screams, throat aching as he yells, and suddenly the room freezes, and the lights flicker to life, and everyone stares in bewilderment at Yuuri. 

Yuuri over quite possibly, Viktor Nikiforov’s corpse.

“I— I… is… I’m so… Are you all… um, okay?” He tries, stance wide and arms stretched out in defense, shielding Viktor from theri view. Dread rose up in his throat, like bile wanting to burn as Yuuri watched the sudden revelation in the eyes of the people who’d put two and two together. Or perhaps they simply needed an outlet to the supernatural chaos they’d witnessed. It didn’t matter, the outburst was the same.

“You tried to kill us!” Someone yells, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction, 

— “Monster!”

— “Evil!”

— “The devil!”

It doesn’t take much longer to work out what to do. With a forlorn look tossed to the unconscious skater, Yuuri turns and—

_ Picks Viktor up?! _

“Mari!?” He screeches again, new found strength in his arms moving to lift the man effortlessly. “Mari no! No Mari, we gotta—”

But it’s too late, they’re off, and the world can only watch as they disappear from sight.

It had always a joke between him and his friends, “Steal Viktor from the world Yuuri, you’re skating is just that captivating!” they’d said. And now Yuuri doesn’t know what to do; because he’s quite literally just done that.

* * *

  
  


He bolts upright and stares directly into Yuuri’s eyes. Piercing blue meeting timid brown, as if knowing all along that they were there. “Holy shit you’re going to kill me.” Her gasps, somewhat fearful towards the Japanese man. Yuuri bites his lip, head turning away as he scoots off the hotel bed, releasing his hands. “Or.. not?” Viktor tries, slowly tugging at sheets.

He’s clothed in the day before’s attire and it appears he’s in a hotel room, not his own but Yuuri’s, sprawled on his back in a bed. “What… what happened yesterday?”

There’s hesitance on Yuuri’s behalf, and Viktor can tell he’s trying to come up with an excuse, so he sits up and frowns, tutting as he observes. “You’re thinking too hard.” He begins, raising an eyebrow, “You shouldn’t be thinking so hard about… whatever happened…”

“I shouldn’t… but I don’t know what to um, say…” Yuuri explains, fingers twiddling, “I wasn’t originally going to um… kidnap you? I was um… forced to… by Mari! And I’m just… so sorry about this all and I wish I could take it back but —”

“Who’s Mari?” Viktor cuts in, head tilting as he glances around the room, “Oh wait, that’s the mysterious thing from yesterday? The… supernatural thing?” He pauses, eyes widening, “Was that why I failed my program?!... Or… or why you… the  _ quintuple axel! _ ”

“I can’t control Mari!” Yuuri waves his hands feverishly… “I promise I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry! You… you can go! I’ll hold her off if she tries to stop you I’m—”

“You really need to calm down.” Viktor hums, arms folded across his chest. Yuuri pauses abruptly, jaw unhinged in disbelief.

“What?”

“You’re panicking a lot.” Viktor shrugs, heart-shaped smile on his lips, “I mean… I probably should be severely terrified for my life right now but if I’m honest I’m just not? I think it’s because you didn’t try to play the “you’re imagining things” card and you’re… incredibly terrified? Tell me more about Mari!’

There’s a beat of silence between the two as Yuuri blinks, “I… I’d rather not.” He mutters darkly, “When they find you they’ll ask questions and the less you know the better… if you’re not going to leave immediately then fine, b-but excuse me, I need to begin packing… the sooner I go into hiding the better.”

VIktor bolts from the bed, startling Yuuri with his sudden movements, “Hiding?” He questions, almost in disbelief, “Alone? For how long?” 

“Probably for a long time.” Yuuri shrugs vaguely as he flits about the room, picking up clothes and utilities as he goes. The TV remote for the hotel whizzes across the room, slamming against the wall as he tries to pick up his other belongings. “Stop it Mari!”

Viktor watches in awe as another of Yuuri’s belongings is tossed across the room, this time onto the bed Viktor is sitting on. “Um… hello?”

“Ignore her, she’s being stupid.” Yuuri grits out, snatching his shampoo bottle, “Mari, this is your fault, yours! So don’t go get whiny when I have to deal with your… your shit!”

“And why is um… Mari acting… whiny?” Viktor glances around the room precariously, as if said person would suddenly make themselves visible. Whatever or whoever Mari is, instead decides to send a chill down his spine before promptly throwing the thick doona away.

“She wants me to talk with you.” Yuuri explains, gritting his teeth, “But I can’t because — I NEED TO FINISH PACKING!”

Viktor observed the Japanese skater staring up at the ceiling, as if it had personally done him wrong. With a hum and a finger pressed to his lips he slowly extracts the tv remote from where it’s been discarded, and absentmindedly begins to fiddle with it.

“I’m surprised no one has come to find me.” Viktor muses, quirking an eyebrow up expectantly, “Surely the hotel staff saw you?”

Yuuri pauses, eyes averted as he frowns at the window, nodding as if in thought, “They did… Mari decided to play a game of possessing the staff…”

“Possess?!” Viktor’s repeats, for some reason not expecting such an answer, “Like… what happened to me on the ice?”

“Almost.” Yuuri agreed, resuming his packing, “Except this time I actually had to participate to make sure no one saw us… I-I promise I’m not trying to kill you!” He splutters, hands waving. “I just… I can’t be seen… and… yeah.”

“I see…” Viktor nods, like it makes sense when it clearly doesn’t. His eyes drift towards Yuuri’s phone on the coffee table. “Take me with you.”

“Take you— take….  _ WHAT _ ?!” Yuuri’s head snaps around to face him, jaw dropped in disbelief. “You’re mental.” He shakes his head, “You’re crazy… or is this some sort of Stockholm’s syndrome? Oh my god… it is isn’t it? No no no this is so very bad…”

“You’re jumping the gun a bit I think.” Viktor holds his hands up placently, “You didn’t intend to… steal me… I’ll blame Mari for that…”

“Oh god and now you’re believing me when I talk about Mari… maybe I didn’t heal your head right… Mari! I think we made a mistake—“

“Yuuri!” Viktor snaps, huffing in annoyance. The dark haired man freezes, eyes blown wide as he stares, “Again, I’m going to blame Mari… and it’s a little hard not to believe you after… well everything going in right now and… before.”

Yuuri slumps forward, cheeks flushed as he nods. “Oh… right… Um, yeah…”

“Exactly.” Viktor agrees before straightening out his posture, “So, as I was saying… take me with you.”

There’s a beat of silence.”Can I um… ask w-why?” Comes the shy response, hesitant with words.

“Well…” Viktor begins, contemplating his choice of explanation, “You’re going into hiding… and that means peace and quiet… or at least avoiding the world… right?” Yuuri nods in response as he frowns. “Well that’s plenty enough reason for me to join you… for however many years that may be.”

“You…” Yuuri begins, resuming his packing, “Have some serious shit going on don’t you?”

“Maybe.” Viktor shrugs, climbing out of the bed to stand beside him. “I’d make a show of dedication by tossing all personal belongings on me… but uh… I think all I have left on me is my phone.”

“Then toss the phone.” Yuuri says simply, turning to face the Russian. “I’ll give you a new one… but you’ll need to—“

It’s thrown to the ground in a matter of seconds, stubbing Yuuri into silence as Viktor brings his heel down. The glass cracks minutely before Viktor nervously laughs, scratching at the back of his neck haplessly. 

“Well then.” Yuuri nods, staring blankly at the phone, “Mari, help Mr Drama Queen out.”

He watches in amazement as his phone implodes in itself, bits of hardware and glass crunching as it falls into pieces. “Well there’s that.” Viktor nods, looking at Yuuri. “And I’m not  _ that _ dramatic.”

Yuuri doesn’t bother looking up this time, the odd sense of anxiety slipping away with the more control that he gains in the situation. “Nope, you are.” He argues, slamming his case shut. The zipper pulls itself around the perimeter of the bag as he turns to face Viktor. “I guess we’re doing this then…” 

“I guess we are.”

“I don’t expect an explanation immediately.” Yuuri butts in, squinting at Viktor as he speaks, “But to earn one eventually would be comforting… especially as to why the sudden introversion.”

Yuuri doesn’t hear a response from Viktor but it’s assumed as a silent agreement. With a slight nudge to the suitcase and a final look over the hotel room, Yuuri sighs and straightens his clothes. “Well then let’s go… Mari — Kill the cameras… are you ready Viktor?”

“Yeah!” The Russian breathes, nodding his head. “I’m ready when you are  _ Yuuri _ .” Yuuri flushes again, a deep crimson in response to his name, and Viktor smirks in response to the outcome. He’s never felt so certain in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were confusion:
> 
> Mari is this spirit tethered to Yuuri which enables him to communicate with her. She's the one moving stuff and controlling people but Yuuri is the vessel through which she intereacts with the world... 
> 
> IDK I love Beyond: Two Souls (A game by Quantic Dreams, the people beind my other fav game Detroit: Become Human) so I figured I'd implement a similar story mechanic here. It's all rushed because it's such an old fanfic but eh anyway, take it.


End file.
